


Everchanging

by Dubnoreix



Category: Transformers (Unicron Trilogy)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Quarantine, drunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 18:34:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dubnoreix/pseuds/Dubnoreix
Summary: Pre-Armada. While still on Cybertron, Jetfire and Starscream get trapped together inside a quarantined room for a night and get a little more than they bargained for. Not related to Taking Over.





	Everchanging

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Just a little dabble in my head. Enjoy!

_ Title:  _ Everchanging

_ Disclaimer _ : I do not own Transformers.

_ Chapter 1 _ :

“I’m  _ telling _ you, that fragging data chip is long buried in Decagon now!”

“Well, it wouldn’t  _ be _ there if you’d done your slagging job, Starscream!”

The red seeker was ready to blow a gasket. Curling his fists together in barely hinged anger, he said through his teeth, “I didn’t have enough mechs on my crew. I didn’t have enough mechs because you insisted we wouldn’t be discovered. We were discovered because you were certain they wouldn’t be overlooking that trajectory. So I didn’t do my slagging job  _ because of you! _ ”

Megatron snorted as he shoved a wounded Skywarp into Thundercrack’s hold, glaring daggers at his Ariel Commander. “Don’t give me excuses, Starscream, I’ve heard quite enough. Blame me all you want, but if you were half as capable as you are mouthy, you wouldn’t have failed this mission.”

Starscream was so angry for a moment that he was prepared to jump the Decepticon Lord. Then a cold calmness came over him as he smirked cruelly at his commander. “Failed, have I?” he sneered, and then his smile dropped. “Fine. Do you want that fragging data chip so bad?  _ Then I’ll go get it back, by MYSELF! _ ”

Megatron’s annoyance dissolved into shock as Starscream fired up his boosters. The massive tank tried to bark at the seeker, but his enraged voice was lost in the scream of his twin engines. Megatron made a grab for the red jet, but it was too late—he fired out of the small throne room, crashing into one of the high-rise windows just above them. Glass littered down on the wounded and disoriented mechs, and the purple mech growled in frustration. Once the Autobots took that fool, he was going to rue the orn he was created. And that would be  _ before _ Megatron got his hands on the seeker again.

The Decepticon Lord would make sure he’d  _ never _ forget it.

—

Jetfire’s hand moved as fast as lightning over the computer controls as the Autobots within the large room ran around like frightened turbo-rats. Wheeljack and Perceptor were scrambling to demolish what was left of the computers, while their assistants were working to pick up anything the Decepticons could grab. They were abandoning Decagon.

“You guys should’ve been outta here ten kliks ago!” snapped Jetfire as he jerked out the data chip containing an erasing protocol.

“We’re going, we’re going!” cried Wheeljack with a bundle of wires in his arms.

“’Jack, Perceptor! Forget about fragging pulling the computers apart! I’m just gonna throw a grenade in here anyway!” called Jetfire, grabbing one of the assistants who was attempting to dismantle the computer he was working on. Taking another one by the arm, he dragged the two towards the door and ushered them down the hallway. “Guys! Come  _ on! _ ”

Perceptor tried to protest. “But if the Decepticons find the—”

“I’ve got the virus, I’m on the last few computers, then I’m blowing the place. Get your  _ afts in gear _ and get to the hangar bay!” Jetfire’s voice boomed with authority as he yanked the two scientists from their work and hauled them into the corridor. “ _ NOW! _ ”

The two didn’t try to argue with him again, tossing the remnants of trashed hard drives and wiring back into the communications center. A massive explosion rocked the entire place, throwing Perceptor against Wheeljack and into the wall to his right. Jetfire clung to the doorframe, his optics pinned on the two scientists, but they quickly gathered to their feet and continued sprinting. It seemed like the western sector was already blowing to smithereens, which meant his time was out. Sweeping back to the last few computers, Jetfire madly typed away, trying to move as possible without making a mistake. To keep any Decepticons from finding sensitive information, Prime ordered  _ every _ computer to be erased and physically destroyed, even if it had nothing on it but party holovids.

Jetfire was on the last computer when a window above him burst into a million pieces, a red mech diving in and blindly open firing. The white shuttle ducked underneath the desk, snatching his pistol from his hip. Starscream. What in the pits was  _ he _ doing here?

“Come out,  _ Autobot scum! _ ” he screeched, sounding particularly off his rocker. “I can see your wings from here, Jetfire!”

“Then why don’t you come and get me, sugarfoot!?” he exclaimed, reaching up to the computer to input the last few commands. Before he could, however, wild gunfire scathed across his hand. “Frag!”

Sniggering, the red seeker drawled, “Just tell me what I want, and I’ll end you quickly.”

Jetfire turned over on his hands and knees, ducking his shoulders to make sure his wings weren’t visible. “Tell you how pretty you are, princess? I’ll do that for free.”

“ _ Silence! _ ” screeched the Decepticon.

It was just too easy to get Starscream riled up, and when he got lost in his fits of anger, it made it even easier to bring him down. Thankfully, he appeared to be alone, but Jetfire would have to finish this quickly if it meant getting out of there alive. He didn’t know why Starscream was here, and frankly, he didn’t give a slag. But even if it meant taking the fight outside, Jetfire would take a few hits if he could see another orn.

Grabbing a broken chair leg from his right, Jetfire messed with some of the wirings beneath the table to give Starscream some bait. The idiot took it, thinking the shuttle was trying to see through the thick cables to shoot his feet and leaped over the table to fire at him. Instead, Jetfire grabbed one of his ankles and clapped the Decepticon against the metal floor. Quickly returning to the task at hand, he cried out when the pit-slagging seeker fired at his back. Jetfire snatched the rest of the chair and before Starscream could shoot again, bashed him over the head with it a few times. When Starscream looked dazed, Jetfire whipped back to the computer and stamped in the last command. There. All done.

Gathering to his feet, Jetfire lunged for the door—only trip over his own feet, thanks to a particularly stubborn seeker who grabbed his ankle joints. The white shuttle collapsed hard enough to make the floor shudder.

“You’re not leaving until I get what I want!”

Jetfire  _ seriously _ did not have time for this. Instead of trying to struggle with Starscream, the second-in-command would have to take the annoying glitch with him. Twisting around, the white Autobot grabbed both of the seeker’s wrists, crushing the smaller mech against his frame. Fumbling for the exit again, he reached out when a solid, emergency door cut off his retreat. Gasping, he snapped around to the windows, where massive steel barriers came crashing down.  _ No _ .

Starscream swore and tore at his frame, and Jetfire slammed him against a wall and pinned him there. Hailing Optimus over the comm. link, he hoped to Primus above he would be able to pick up.  _ ‘PRIME! I’M STILL INSIDE, I’M STILL INSIDE! DON’T DROP THE BOMB! _ ’

“Let me  _ go _ , you filthy Aut—”

“Shut the  _ frag _ up, Starscream!” Jetfire practically screamed, shoving him harder against the wall.

_ ‘PRIME, FOR FRAG’S SAKE—!’ _

_ ‘Jetfire?! Why are you still in the building?!’ _ The Autobot commander’s concerned voice was Primus-sent.

“I got freaking  _ stuck _ here because Starscream showed up outta nowhere and a quarantine just went off!” he exclaimed, further smooshing the idiot Decepticon against the wall. Frag, he was so angry, his spark felt like it was boiling. “Wasn’t Hot Shot supposed to disengage all emergency protocols?!”

_ ‘I did!’ _ cried the young scout.  _ ‘It must’ve glitched somehow when we were shutting down the main computer system!’ _

Jetfire swore up and down, so close to losing his cool.

_ ‘Jetfire,’ _ stated Optimus, his authoritative attitude returning.  _ ‘I told Smokescreen to hold off until we can get you out. Unfortunately, we’ve evacuated the premises, and Hot Shot will have to sneak back in so he can disengage the quarantine manually.’ _

Swallowing the growl which threatened to escape, he muttered, “And how long will that take?”

_ ‘At least a couple of orns. We’re already close to reaching the southern outpost.’ _

In his rage, the white shuttle tossed the seeker away from him. The Decepticon yelped and tumbled into a collection of tables and chairs, breaking them upon contact. “Why is this idiot even  _ here?! _ ”

Optimus, calm as ever, replied,  _ ‘If I can guess, we received a tip that he was going to be traversing through our territory about twelve joors ago. I’m thinking Soundwave used him as a distraction and didn’t notify Megatron of what he was doing, therefore Megatron blamed Starscream for being caught. He’s probably there to try and get back whatever he thought was stolen.’ _

“That...that stupid  _ data chip?! _ ” exclaimed Jetfire, kicking a chair close by. It burst into pieces. “There was nothing on that stupid thing except a repeat of Megatron’s annoying laugh!” Starscream’s orange optics glinted against the blue-hued lights of the room, wide with shock. Jetfire, in his escalating fury, stomped up to the seeker and hovered over him. “Didn’t you even  _ look _ at the slagging thing?!”

Starscream just stared up at him, startled into silence.

_ ‘Jetfire, will you be alright with Starscream there?’ _ asked Optimus.

Taking a deep cycle and, trying to remember that he was a soldier who could adapt to any circumstance, worked to bring himself back into the present. “The stupid quarantine disengages our weapons. If he puts up a fuss, I’ll knock him out.”

_ ‘Try to sit tight. I know Wheeljack has a stash of energon under one of the floor panelings there, so look for that. We’ll notify you when Hot Shot’s crossed over the perimeter.’ _

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jetfire muttered, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks, Prime.”

They broke communications, and the white shuttle just stood there for a few blips, glaring at the shaken red seeker. He looked lost and confused, much different than his usual expression of gleeful malice. With a long sigh, Jetfire glanced around, more interested in searching for that cache of energon. Knowing Wheeljack, there was probably a few high-grade cubes thrown in, which he wanted so much it hurt.

“There was…” whispered Starscream as he stared at the white Autobot. “There was nothing on that data chip…?”

“Nope,” snapped Jetfire, skimming his foot over the large, dark tiles. He was in no way interested in having a conversation with the Decepticon, primarily when he was still so pissed.

“But why...didn’t Megatron know…?”

“Starscream, Megatron is the worst liar in the universe. If Soundwave told Megahead, that moron would’ve given it away.” Jetfire sensed his foot caught on a ledge, and the shuttle quickly dropped to his knees. He attempted to pry it open with his fingers at first, but there was no way it would give. Golden optics searched for something within the room, and he pinpointed the broken chair leg.

The red seeker was still coming to terms with the realization that all his effort to regain the so-called precious chip was utterly in vain. “Megatron blamed me for nothing…”

Again, Jetfire sighed. Glancing at the stunned Decepticon, he replied with annoyance, “I dunno if you noticed, but that’s how he rolls, Starscream.” Then the shuttle stomped down the end of the chair leg, effectively flattening it. Wiggling it into the thin crevice, Jetfire got to his feet and wedged the panel up, using his hands when the metal leg bent. With a grunt, he hauled it into his arms and threw it to the other side of the room with a crash.

Jetfire gazed down at the small stash and cycled in relief. He’d have to kiss Wheeljack when he saw him again. Not only was there about twenty, glistening cubes waiting for him, but also ten high-grades just begging to be consumed. If he was going to be stuck here for a few orns, then he was going to get thoroughly sloshed. But first, he was going to fill up on regular energon because he didn’t remember the last time he did so.

Grabbing one of the pink cubes, he cracked it open and down the whole thing. He sensed a pair of optics trained on him and realized Starscream was staring not at him, but the energon. When he noticed Jetfire looking at him, however, he quickly glanced away. But he couldn’t disguise his thirst, and the sentimental part of the shuttle’s spark consumed his thoughts. It would be downright cruel to drink a bunch of energon in front of the seeker and, though the red mech might’ve deserved it, Jetfire did not think himself as a cruel mech. Grabbing one of the cubes, he called Starscream’s name and then tossed him one.

“Why are you giving me this?” wondered the Decepticon.

“I’ll take it back if you don’t want it,” snapped Jetfire as he broke into a second cube.

Starscream didn’t object but instead glugged the whole thing faster than the shuttle thought possible. He still looked hungry, and Jetfire got a funny feeling that he was often in that condition. It wouldn’t surprise him if Megatron purposefully kept his troops on edge by starving them.

This time, Jetfire plucked one of the cubes up and stretched out his arm. His anger had all but relaxed into a simmer, and there was no point in being pissed off the whole time. The white Autobot didn’t have it in him to be angry for long periods. Starscream, however, stared at the shuttle with nothing short of suspicion, sure the shuttle would try something if he ventured too close.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Starscream,” mumbled Jetfire as he gestured the seeker closer. “I’ve stayed up way too many orns in a row to give a slag right now.”

“But I’m the Ariel Commander of the—”

Jetfire growled, “Just take the freaking cube and quit trying to convince me to pummel you.”

Starscream didn’t need a second warning, pulling to his hands and knees and stretching out to take the freely offered energon. The red seeker didn’t know what it was about Jetfire, but something about the white shuttle made him fear to provoke the Autobot’s anger. Perhaps because he was the same size as Megatron or that he was a flier, too. Airborne mechs knew how to make others tick in a way that no ground-hogging mech could. If he pissed off Jetfire again, he’d know just what to do to make this stalemate very,  _ very _ unpleasant.

For a while, the pair just sat in silence. They both consumed about half the cache, which was more than Starscream had drunk since he could recall. His tanks churned pleasantly with the feeling of energon running through his veins, and his limbs were heavy. Jetfire looked increasingly tired as he leaned on his knees, his golden optics fogged over with exhaustion.

Unable to bear the silence anymore, Starscream muttered, “Why did you say you were stuck here with me?”

Jetfire snorted. “Besides the quarantine? We’re blowing this base to the other side of the universe.”

This shocked Starscream. “You’re abandoning it? But it has the strongest defenses in Iacon.”

“Then you can think of the Autobots as sentimental  _ and _ stupid,” muttered the shuttle while draining the last of his fifth cube. He wasn’t about to give details of the Autobots’ plans to one of Megatron’s highest-ranking generals, but the biggest thing was that (for the most part), Prime had given up defending Iacon. Slowly over the last few months, the Autobots had evacuated the civilians to safer outposts on the south side of the planet. Decagon was one which needed to be destroyed, however.

Starscream was aware Jetfire wouldn’t tell him any more than that and decided to stay quiet. By the time he got back to the Decepticon base, Decagon would be no more than rubble anyway. The seeker stared down at the last bits of his cube, wondering how bad Megatron would react to what he did. As long as he escaped before the Autobots tried to take him prisoner, then at least he would have that on his side…

“Here.”

Starscream barely had time to react before he caught another cube of energon—no, wait. This stuff was different, shimmering like silver. Hold on a second. “High-grade?” asked the red mech with disbelief.

Jetfire opened one and took a small sip, grinning slightly. “This used to be Wheeljack’s office. He likes to hoard this stuff, otherwise, everyone would drink it right away.”

“Mechs like you.”

“Yep.” The shuttle dunked back another gulp.

Starscream was finding it more challenging to understand Jetfire’s behavior. “Why are you giving me this?”

The white Autobot released a loud groan as he threw his head back, startling the Decepticon. Rubbing his optics, he grumbled, “Starscream, let’s say we’re in a temporary truce. I  _ know  _ you don’t want to get beat up, and I don’t  _ feel _ like beating you up. I just want to enjoy a few joors of peace. So stop asking those kinds of questions and drink your slagging high-grade. Okay? Is that okay with you?” Starscream silently nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

The red seeker glanced down at the cube again, his thoughts rapid firing. If Jetfire was going to get drunk, then perhaps...an opportunity could present itself. While the shuttle was incapacitated, then Megatron would be thrilled to know his Ariel Commander was able to take down the second-in-command of Optimus Prime. Though Starscream didn’t privy himself to such useless activities such as getting drunk, the high-grade couldn’t be  _ that  _ bad in his system. He wouldn’t let this moment slip through his fingers…

—

“No, no, no, seriously…” laughed Jetfire, half a cube of high-grade swishing in its container as the shuttle swayed. “Right through the floor. Funniest slag I’ve ever seen. And Megatron’s just so...so…”

“Proud?” giggled Starscream, feeling way more relaxed than before. If he’d known high-grade could release the tension that always kept his mind so tight, he would’ve started drinking the stuff much earlier than now.

Swiping his hand through the air, Jetfire gasped, “Yes,  _ proud _ . Oh, he got so mad. I live for those moments. Watching Megatron get mad is like watching Prime get embarrassed. And his legs were just...just  _ flailing. _ ” The shuttle descended into another fit of giggles, smoothing a hand over his face. “Oh, Primus. If I wasn’t so focused on the mission, I would’ve pointed and laughed at him.”

Letting loose a happy sigh, Jetfire put back yet another drink of the stuff. Then he leaned forward and grabbed a couple more cubes, passing one to Starscream. The seeker could already feel the substance take a toll on his frame—his limbs were much heavier than before like the gravity had been dialed up. Plus all the thoughts which often plagued his mind before drifted away without a fight, his processor cleared of the usual muck which inhabited it. In its place, there was something deep and quieter waiting there, but he couldn’t point a finger to what it was. Starscream, eager to continue drifting in the calming ease, drank the rest of his current cube.

“Whoa there, Starscream, don’t power it down so fast…” mused the shuttle, picking his feet up and swiveling around to face the seeker better. “You’ll pass out.”

“I’m fine,” muttered the red mech with a shrug.

“Sure, you say that now…” mumbled Jetfire, but didn’t press it. Instead, he gazed steadily at the Decepticon, his golden optics boring into his unwilling company.

“What?” asked Starscream, adjusting so that he tucked his foot under the other.

Jetfire observed him for a few more moments before he mulled, “You know...I don’t get you.”

“Speak for yourself, Autobot.”

“No, seriously,” the white mech said softly. “Don’t get me wrong; I get why the Decepticons do what they do. At least, I’d like to think I do. I just don’t get why  _ you _ do it.”

Starscream scoffed in indignation, rolling his optics. “I wouldn’t expect  _ anyone  _ to understand.”

“Well, yeah...I mean, if I had  _ anyone  _ talk to me like Megatron talks to you, I’d beat the living slag out of them. I dunno how you put up with it.” He smoothed his fingers over his facemask, then scratched the side of his helm. Starscream was working on a witty retort, but not in time before the shuttle continued. “I mean, I’ve even talked about it with Optimus a few times. Both of us are at a loss why you let it slide.”

Starscream glared at the presumptuous Autobot, but found himself at a loss, too. It wasn’t like he put up with it—on the contrary. But if the seeker continued to put up resistance, Megatron would come down that much harder on his Ariel Commander. Starscream just wasn’t physically big enough to contend with the tank, and even if he ran away, the punishment would be there when he got back. He learned that the hard way.

“I guess I’m the only one who tells Megatron what he doesn’t want to hear,” mumbled the seeker.

“He never listens, though,” responded Jetfire in a calm voice. “And he’s never gonna. He’s way too full of himself.”

The red mech slanted his gaze to the right, pondering those words. Taking up the second cube of high-grade, Starscream answered, “I suppose I can’t keep my big trap shut.”

Jetfire watched the Decepticon across from him for a long moment, skimming his thumb over his forefinger. His conversations with Prime had been more than just a few—he didn’t know how many times he’d exchanged with Optimus about Starscream’s presence in the Decepticon Army. It was almost painful to watch Megatron take out his wrath on one of his generals. Perhaps because the Autobots had a sense of principals, but they  _ never _ treated a fellow soldier that way. There had been more than one occasion where Jetfire personally witnessed Megatron make a mistake and then blindly throw the blame on Starscream. It seemed like the seeker took that responsibility as his own like he was used to it at this point. Jetfire couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to continually battle with his leader. Besides exhausting, it no doubt killed much of Starscream’s drive to ever put his spark into the fight.

To the shuttle’s surprise, however, the seeker went on, “If I didn’t do it, I wouldn’t be true to myself. More than just the Decepticon cause, I have to stand up for what I believe in. Megatron doesn’t get it, either. He thinks if he just beats me up enough, then eventually I’ll comply. I suppose we’re both stubborn that way.”

Jetfire felt a wash of pity roll over his frame. “What would you do if Megatron suddenly listened to you?”

Starscream’s bright orange optics snapped to the Autobot, but the shuttle didn’t react, patiently waiting for his response. At last, he just shrugged. “Be happy, I guess. It wouldn’t last, though.”

“What if it did?”

The red Decepticon’s optics narrowed with suspicion. “What are you getting at?”

Jetfire shrugged, too. “You want to be respected. I get it. You’re not stupid, I’ve seen it plenty enough times to know. You’ve got your reasons for fighting which—I’m reaching out on a limb here—I’m going to assume are not all that different from mine.”

Starscream picked up on what the white Autobot was drawing to and snapped, “We’re not the same. And I’ll  _ never  _ become an Autobot.”

“Even if it meant getting what you want?” asked the shuttle. When Starscream didn’t reply, he mused, “That’s what I mean when I say I don’t get you. My superiors never treated me with such blatant disrespect. I mean, everyone is often so consumed with Prime that he could never be wrong, but he’s always taken my advice. At least he’ll  _ listen _ to it. And if either of us turns out wrong, then we take responsibility. Call us sentimental all you want, but we’re not so proud as to not take the time to do something as simple as listening.”

Starscream growled, a sudden surge of anger crashing into him. “Then consider yourself  _ lucky _ , Autobot, and quit your worrying about me. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want to be anything but a Decepticon.”

Jetfire threw up his hands in defense, knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere. “Alright, fine.”

“It’s not like the Autobots would take me in, anyway…”

The shuttle swung his gaze back to the seeker, who curled into himself, bringing his legs up to circle his arms around his knees. The deep sapphire hues of the room threw harsh shadows over his crimson frame, blending to create vivid violet tints. Only his bright orange optics, glazed over with pain, offered little light to the smooth gray paneling of his face. He suddenly looked small in Jetfire’s view, like a youngling who had no family or home to return to.

“You don’t know that,” murmured the white Autobot. A strange sensation dusted over his body, a sudden urge to reach out to the seeker who was clearly in pain with his own unfortunate circumstances.

Starscream wasn’t listening anymore. “No-one wants to deal with me. I’m insufferable to my unit, and both factions openly mock me. The only ones who  _ could  _ stand me ended up joining the Autobots. I don’t know why Megatron even keeps me around...perhaps because I can fly the fastest. It’s the one thing I  _ can  _ do.”

With high-grade swimming through his system, Jetfire’s usual restraints couldn’t stop him from slowly crawling over to the red seeker. Starscream was still muttering to himself and only noticed the white shuttle when Jetfire positioned his legs on either side of the red mech’s hips. His orange optics drew up Jetfire’s face with a tinge of doubt, though the bigger ’bot’s calm expression quickly subdued his fears.

“Can I be honest with you for a blip?” wondered the hulking shuttle.

Up close, Jetfire looked so much bigger. Sure, Starscream knew he was massive to begin with—but here, the seeker felt tiny in comparison. It was no surprise Prime had chosen him as second-in-command. Despite all that, and not really understanding why, he chose not to put distance between himself and his captor. “Sure, why not,” he mumbled.

“I think you make Megatron nervous. He doesn’t worry about the others because he knows they’re completely loyal to him, but he knows you openly refute him. If he wasn’t worried about it, then he wouldn’t get so mad.” Jetfire sighed, leaning against one arm. “Maybe I’m wrong, though...maybe he’s nervous you’ll convince others of the same.”

“I wouldn’t even think this way if he just  _ listened  _ to me once in a while,” growled Starscream and smoothed his hand over his helm. “But the others don’t care about what I say. Megatron listens to them, so why  _ would  _ they care about what I have to say?”

The sinking feeling in Starscream’s chassis hit him harder than he expected, and the thick walls which were usually erected to protect himself now non-existent. He didn’t know why he was saying all this to Jetfire, but he couldn’t stop. In the deep corners of his processor, he knew why. The white shuttle was listening to his babble of all the things which plagued the seeker when he was in the safety of silence. Desperation and anger chewed up his spark as it had never done before, in a way which was so intense and painful, he started to shake.

“I know why Megatron does what he does,” Starscream said bitterly, jaw clenched tight. “He hates that I don’t bow to him like the rest of them. He hates it when I turn out right. It has nothing to do with the war—he just doesn’t like when he’s questioned and then ends up being wrong, too.” The revelation was as startling to the seeker as it was to the Autobot across from him.

However, Starscream didn’t expect Jetfire to say, “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense…”

The red mech glimpsed up at the shuttle, his trembling slowly relaxing as he watched Jetfire rub his chin in thought. After a brief moment, Starscream asked, “I don’t get you, either.”

At this, the Autobot laughed softly. “I was honest before. I didn’t want to fight. Plus, I knew Wheeljack had some high-grade. Might as well enjoy the mini-vacation while I got the chance.”

“No, beyond that,” said Starscream as he cocked his head. “If you wanted to, you could become very powerful within the Decepticon forces.”

At this, Jetfire threw back his head and laughed. After he finally calmed down, he replied, “Oh, no. I’m way too lazy for that. If I know anything about ’Cons, it’s a constant battle, even when you’re in the safety of your base. My perfect orn off is playing video games with Hot Shot.”

Starscream offered the mech a deadpan look. “...You can’t be serious.”

“Super serious. Outside of the battlefield, I’m the laziest mech you could know. I’m, like... _ so _ far behind on reports, it’ll take me the rest of my life to finish them even the war ended tonight.” Jetfire chuckled again with the thought, then added, “Actually, my perfect orn off would be interfacing. Just a whole day of it. I love spark linking, maybe even more than drinking.”

Starscream rolled his optics with exasperation.

“No, seriously. I  _ love _ interfacing. I can make my partner overcharge in less than a klik,” he said with a haughty smirk reflecting in his gold optics. The seeker had a hard time believing that for a second, and Starscream’s impression was a clear implication of that. Jetfire asked, “What, you don’t believe me?”

“Why should I?” grumbled the Decepticon.

Starscream wasn’t assured when Jetfire straightened, leaning in close. “Then why don’t we propose a bet, hm?”

Shifting uncomfortably, the red seeker drew back from the invasion of personal space. Not like he had much, but still. “What are the stakes?”

“If I don’t make you overcharge in less than a klik, then you can go scot-free,” he said smoothly, already confident that he would succeed. “I’ll just tell Prime that you ran away before I could catch you or something. However, if I win…”

Starscream tensed, knowing what was to come. If he happened to lose, then Megatron would surely beat the living slag out of him for being captured by Jetfire.

“Then I get to interface with you until Hot Shot shows up.”

The seeker’s strained expression dropped like a dead cyberfly. “Are you seriously  _ that _ deprived, Autobot?”

Jetfire chuckled again, leaning back. “I just like interfacing that much. Plus, you’re super attractive. If you weren’t a Decepticon, I would’ve tried to get you into bed ages ago.”

Scoffing, Starscream tried to keep the compliment from settling in too deep. Either way, for him, it was a win-win situation. He could try to escape at the end, even if Jetfire won the bet. In the meantime, Jetfire would also get his jollies by interfacing with him...who the shuttle found super attractive. Argh, don’t think about that. It was too tempting to pass up, knowing that he’d be able to withstand whatever the idiot Autobot threw at him. Starscream wasn’t some feeble virgin, and Jetfire wasn’t nearly as good as he thought he was. The seeker smirked.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Autobot.”

—  
  


**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Jetfire is daydreaming if he thinks Optimus won’t find out about this, hahahaha.


End file.
